


Warm Hands, Warm Heart

by cobaltexpositor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Finn doesn't understand his feelings, First Kiss, Gift Giving, Knitting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Poe Dameron's Jacket, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltexpositor/pseuds/cobaltexpositor
Summary: Even though Poe gave him the jacket as a gift, Finn still feels the need to pay him back somehow. That's what that strange feeling in his chest is telling him whenever they stand close to each other, right?
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108
Collections: Star Wars Secret Santa 2020





	Warm Hands, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@nooowestayandgetcaught](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40nooowestayandgetcaught).



> This is my gift for @nooowestayandgetcaught on tumblr. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> And of course I have to shoutout our fearless coordinator @lilhawkeye3 for making all this possible.  
> Happy holidays, and May The Force Be With You

_ “Keep it. It suits you.” _

Finn ran his fingers over the stitch job he had just finished on the back of Poe’s jacket.  _ His _ jacket. The worn, tawny leather was softer than anything he had ever felt. The material had signs of love and care from the previous owner; mismatched fabric from past patch repairs to the inside lining, along with different clasps from the original design on the left sleeve. Poe clearly treasured the jacket greatly, and he had just given it to him without a second thought. A fact that sat warmly in Finn’s chest in a way that he just wasn’t used to. He thinks it’s guilt; it’s the closest emotion he can match it to.

He needs to find a way to return the favor, but how?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by three quick knocks. He looks up to see the man in question in the open door frame.

“Hey,” Poe stepped into the small room and into Finn’s space (and that warm feeling flared in his chest at the proximity). He leaned over to inspect his work and nodded approvingly. “Looks brand new, Finn. Good job.”

Finn laughed at the compliment. It was most certainly  _ not _ as good as new.

“You can still see the scorch marks.”

Poe simply shrugs. “It’s better than any repair I could have done myself. How did you even get the stitches so even?”

“Learning basic repair to our armor and undersuits was required,” he explains as he slips the jacket back on. An awkward silence fell over them, the same way it always does when Finn brings up his past as a StormTrooper. Poe smiled and pushed through the lull in conversation, putting a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Came to grab you for the strategy meeting. You ready?”

Finn nodded and followed Poe through the winding halls of the rebel headquarters. Trailing behind the pilot, staring at the dark hair curling at the base of his neck, the strong expanse of his shoulders, his long purposeful stride, the gears in his head turned as he tried to figure out what gift he could possibly give in return that would mean as much as Poe meant to him.

_ Wait, what? _

\---

It was a few weeks later on a supply run when Finn got an idea.

The neighboring planet to D’Qar had a pretty sizable port with very little First Order presence. Most of the citizens were secretly Resistance sympathizers. Still, they had to be careful, which is why the Resistance only sent two-person teams in an unmarked freighter. This time it was Finn and Poe’s turn.

They wound through the busy streets, picking up food, ship parts, and clothing in bulk. In another attempt to keep a low profile, they circulated who they bought from each trip so no one would recognize a pattern. Finn stood back, scanning the crowd for potential trouble as Poe sweet talked the middle-aged woman behind the stall into giving them a discount. From the giggles that Finn caught over the din of the market, it seemed to be working.

In the midst of his surveying, Finn saw an old woman. There were plenty of old women, but this one caught his attention because she was doing something he had never seen before. She was perched on a large crate, bundled up in thick woolen garb, with a large pile of yarn set next to her. She was weaving the yarn together with two long sticks. The speed and deftness of her knobbly fingers impressed Finn, the repetitive motion almost sending him into a trance.

As Poe continued his haggling, Finn walked over to the old woman. She noticed him approach and greeted him with a kind smile.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He asked. He was still getting used to striking up small talk with people. Poe had been teaching him.

The old woman nodded, her hands never stopped moving as she spoke to him. “Indeed it is. How can I help you, young man?”

“Can I ask what it is that you’re doing?” He pointed to her needles and yarn.

“This? You’ve never seen knitting before, son?” He shook his head no. She scooted over on the crate and patted the spot next to her. “I’ll teach ya. It’s a good skill. Idle hands do nobody any good.” When she gestured for her to join him, he noticed her thick fingerless gloves. He put together that, like most of the garments she was wearing, she had made herself.

_ Finn jogged over to Poe’s landed X-Wing as the pilot scrambled down the ladder. The mission had been successful, with minimal losses. But Poe had been gone forever, so most of Finn’s joy came from his return.  _

_ Finn grabbed the tools to start working on the damage the craft had taken when he noticed Poe rubbing his hands together furiously and blowing on them. _

_ “You okay? Did you hurt your hands?” _

_ “Nah, they’re just stiff,” he shook out his hands. “Space is cold, and the cockpits aren’t built for comfort. Does a number on your joints.” _

_ Finn set down his tools and grasped Poe’s hands in his own. Poe stilled, but didn’t pull away. He just stared at him as Finn squeezed his hands and rubbed his thumbs across his palms in order to transfer some of his own warmth to his friend. He had plenty to share, judging by the rising heat in his face. A practical eternity later, he withdrew from Poe. _

_ “Better?” _

_ “Hmm?” Poe seemed dazed, gaze not moved from Finn’s face. “Oh, yeah.” He grabbed a wrench from the toolbox and started to climb up the side of the craft. “Thank you.” _

Finn glanced over his shoulder to Poe. He was stacking up boxes on their cart and saying his goodbyes to the vendor. He was about to kindly turn down the old woman when Poe made eye contact with him across the way. He saw him and smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges. Poe had said on multiple occasions that he wanted Finn to experience life outside of what it was like as a soldier, and he always made an effort to show him what the galaxy had to offer whenever they had a chance. That strange, almost painful guilt feeling pressed at his ribs again.

Poe gestured with his hands to indicate that he was going to drop the boxes at the ship and be right back. It wasn’t a good idea to split up, Finn thought, but before he could gesture back Poe was already off on his way.

Finn sat next to the woman who promptly handed him his own set of needles and a large ball of yarn. Slowly, patiently, she walked him through the basic steps of knitting. They worked in steps: she would show him how to do something with her own yarn, and then he would copy her. Finn enjoyed the way the needles clacked together as he looped the yarn together. Seeing the steady progress of his project as he worked was soothing and satisfying.

She was impressed at how quickly Finn mastered the basics, and moved on to explaining how to join different knitted pieces together. By the time Poe had made his way back from the ship, she was showing him fancier stitches and techniques.

“So sorry to steal your pupil from you,” Poe addressed the woman. “But it’s time we head off.” He looked to Finn apologetically, regretting pulling him away from something he was clearly enjoying. But they were expected back on D’Qar, and they didn’t want to alarm anyone by being late. Finn jumped off the crate and went to return the needles and yarn to the old woman, but she held up her hand and shook her head.

“I could never deprive someone as skilled in the craft as you,” she explained when Finn gave a confused tilt of his head. “Consider it a gift, young man.”

Finn thanked her profusely, bundling the yarn and needles in the large pocket of his jacket. The two men walked back to the ship in comfortable silence. When he stole a glance at Poe beside him, he caught the man grinning at him.

“What?”

“Never seen you so excited before. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy,” Poe said as he lowered the ramp to the ship.

_ You make me happy _ a voice creeped up in the back of Finn’s throat. He swallowed it back down and just followed Poe onto the ship.

\---

The sun was setting on D’Qar, casting golden light through the trees as the planet around Finn slowly shifted to night. The air was cooler as a breeze whispered through the leaves and grass. It was quiet up here, a short hike away from the base. Just close enough that he could run back if there was trouble, but far enough to escape the hustle and bustle of pilots, mechanics, and strategists all preparing for the Resistance’s next move. It was beautiful here, and Finn normally would take this small moment to himself to relish the air on his face, unimpeded by a stuffy helmet he had spent most of his life imprisoned by.

But right now he was too damn nervous. He tried to alleviate his jitters by pacing, keep his mind blank by keeping his body busy. He didn’t know where this anxiety was coming from. It was just Poe.

Ever since their supply run, Finn had been using every free moment to work on his gift for his friend. He made a point not to have his supplies out when Poe was around though. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise. As he had worked, he had thought about how his friend would react upon receiving his gift. He thought about what he might say when he gave them to Poe, about the warm feeling in his chest that bordered on pain whenever he was around. About how this warmth spread through his whole body whenever he smiled, or laughed, or touched his arm.

The whole time he knit, he never could decide on the words to say to him. And now as he paced he wondered if he should even say anything at all.

“Finn, buddy!” Poe waved as he approached, running the rest of the way up the hill to meet him. “Sorry I’m late, I got stuck doing inventory.”

“It’s okay,” Finn mumbled. In his nervousness, he hadn’t even noticed Poe’s tardiness.

“So why’d you want to meet all the way out here? Everything okay?”

Finn shuffled his feet. “Yeah everything’s fine. It’s just quiet out here and… and I wanted to give you something.”

Poe raised an eyebrow in surprise.  _ Well, here goes nothing. _

Finn dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of thick knitted fingerless gloves. They were made of a dark grey yarn, and looked as similar to the old woman’s gloves as Finn could make them. The edges where the different knitted pieces meet were a little more rudimentary, and the stitches were less uniform. But they had five fingers each and stayed woven together, so Finn considered them a success.

“I made these for you.”

He thrust the offering out towards Poe, who took them from his hands as carefully as he would handle glass. He turned them gently, inspecting them with great care. He didn't say anything, and Finn panicked.

“They’re to repay you for the jacket. And you said that your hands get cold when you fly. I figured I would have to keep the fingers free because you have to press buttons, but I hope they help.”

Poe lifted his gaze from the gloves. “You didn’t have to repay me for the jacket. It’s yours.”

“I know, I just…” Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.” He froze when he realized he said the last bit out loud. Poe definitely heard it too, because his eyes widened.

“I do?”

Finn’s heart broke just a little bit at the shock in his friend’s voice when he asked that. How could this man, who gave him his name, his clothes, his freedom, everything, not mean the galaxy to him?

Finn stepped closer to Poe, almost without thinking (bouts of bravery often prevent critical thought, he’s found). He stared down at the gloves still in Poe’s hands.

“You do.”

Poe, ever so gently, slid the gloves onto his hands and flexed his fingers. They fit well, even though some of the holes for the fingers were a little loose.

“Do you like them?”

Poe took his newly gloved hands and grabbed Finn’s own, which had been limp at his sides. He gave them a soft squeeze, prompting Finn to look into Poe’s eyes. His heart dropped for a second to see that tears were brimming in their corners.

“I love them. I lo-” he stopped himself, opting instead to slip one hand from Finn’s and cup the side of his face, rubbing his thumb across the cheekbone. The soft scratchiness of the wool contrasted against the calloused skin of his hand. Finn isn’t sure when he stopped breathing, but he hadn’t passed out yet so it must have been recently.

Poe leaned in even closer, and Finn worried that he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. “You mean a lot to me too, Finn.” His voice was just above a whisper, like he was afraid of shattering this moment in time around them.

Finn swallowed to try and force down the lump in his throat that was being forced up by that incessant feeling in his chest. “I’m glad you like them.” Poe bit his lip like he usually did when he was thinking hard about something.

“Finn. I-” he cut himself off again, opting instead to move the rest of the way into the other man’s space.

“Yes?” That feeling in his chest that he thought was guilt hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse.

Their faces were so close that their noses were at risk of bumping against each other. Poe tilted his head slightly and glanced down at Finn’s lips, waiting.

Finn barely had to move to join their lips together in a soft kiss.

And  _ oh _ , that almost-pain evaporated from his body in an instant of bliss. It had never been guilt, it had been wanting.

Wanting to return Poe’s gesture of unbelievable kindness, wanting to be near him, see him smile.

Poe pulled back from the kiss ever so slightly, eyes still closed and a grin breaking out across his face.

Wanting to be the reason he was so irrevocably happy. And he was.

He slid his hand from Finn’s cheek to the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together so their breaths could intermingle.

“Thank you for the jacket,” Finn whispered, earning a small chuckle from Poe.

“Thank you for the gloves.”

“They suit you.”


End file.
